“If this tinhorn thinks he can pump me, I’ll let him try it a while,” he reflected.  He glanced at his watch.

“Three o’clock.  I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you, Dewing,” he said:  “I’ll disport round till supper-time, if I last that long.  But I can’t go very strong.  Quit you at supper-time, win or lose.  Say six o’clock, sharp.  The table will be filled up long before that.”

“Come into the anteroom.  We’ll start in with ten-cent chips,” said Dewing.  “Maybe your friend would like to join us?”

“Not at first.  Later, maybe.  Come on, Frankie!”

Boland followed into the side room.  He was a little disappointed in Pete.

“You see, it’s like this,” said Pete, sinking into a chair after the door was closed:  “Back where Boland lives the rules are different.  They play a game something like Old Maid, and call it poker.  He can sit behind me a spell and I’ll explain how we play it.  Then, if he wants to, he can sit in with us.  Deal ’em up.”

“Cut for deal—­high deals,” said Dewing.

After the first hand was played, Pete began his explanations: 

“We play all jack pots here, Frankie; and we use five aces.  That is in the Constitution of the State of Texas, and the Texas influence reaches clear to the Colorado River.  The joker goes for aces, flushes, and straights.  It always counts as an ace, except to fill a straight; but if you’ve got a four-card straight and the joker, then the joker fills your hand.  Here; I’ll show you.”  Between deals he sorted out a ten, nine, eight, and seven, and the joker with them.

“There,” he said; “with a hand like this you can call the joker either a jack or a six, just as you please.  It is usual to call it a jack.  But in anything except straights and straight flushes—­if there is any such thing as a straight flush—­the cuter card counts as an ace.  Got that?”

“Yes; I think I can remember that.”

“All right!  You watch us play a while, then, till you get on to our methods of betting—­they’re different from yours too.  When you think you’re wise, you can take a hand if you want to.”

Boland watched for a few hands and then bought in.  The game ran on for an hour, with the usual vicissitudes.  Nothing very startling happened.  The “lumbermen” bucked each other furiously, bluffing in a scandalous manner when they fought for a pot between themselves.  Each was cleaned out several times and bought more chips.  Pete won; lost; bought chips; won, lost, and won again; and repeated the process.  Red and blue chips began to appear:  the table took on a distinctly patriotic appearance.  The lumbermen clamored to raise the ante; Johnson steadfastly declined.  Boland, playing cautiously, neither won nor lost.  Dewing won quietly, mostly from the alleged lumbermen.

The statement that nothing particular had occurred is hardly accurate.  There had been one little circumstance of a rather peculiar nature.  Once or twice, when it came Pete’s turn to deal, he had fancied that he felt a stir of cold air at the back of his neck; cooler, at least, than the smoke-laden atmosphere of the card room.